


FANG

by TimDrakeBF



Category: Comedy - Fandom, Drama - Fandom, Fiction - Fandom, Original Work, suspense - Fandom, thriller - Fandom, werewolves - Fandom
Genre: Gay, M/M, Multi, Other, Supernatural - Freeform, Werewolf, Wolves, boy/boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 08:28:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23848189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimDrakeBF/pseuds/TimDrakeBF
Summary: Travis and Calvin are best friends, propelled onto opposite sides of an age-old rivalry between rivals packs. In the midst of fighting for their humanity, hearts and friendship, the boys and their new comrades (?) struggle to protect the city from a greedy, very starved Wolf Demon.





	FANG

Travis hated the sight of blood. Ok, so, it was the consistency and the smell too. It was almost embarrassing, what with his father’s career as a physician. With all the time he’d spent thumbing through his father’s graphic medical documents, books and photos as a child, he really should have had nerves of steel by now. At least nerves of aluminum or possibly plastic. But no, the jigsaw puzzle shaped pool of blood leaking out like elastic red from that person’s body was very much making his stomach death drop off a skyscraper. Not to mention the blood on his own hands, shirt, knees and face. Was he also wounded? He couldn’t remember all of what had even happened.  
They’d been mugged on their way to Dive, a gay bar they’d been to at least one hundred times. Cutting through the parking garage at Ego just to prevent running into Joanie, an ex-friend to both boys had been Calvin’s idea. And look where the hell it had gotten them. Beaten, bloody, robbed and in Calvin’s case…dead?  
Highly unlikely.  
Calvin Farro dying? It was laughable. A bad joke. Boys like Calvin, forces of nature like Calvin’s dumbass did not just…die. He was too chaotic and out of control for life to ever sink it’s teeth into him. Let alone, drain him to the point of death. No. Nope. Guys like Calvin were not invincible, but they wouldn’t die like this. They went out in blazes of glory, a supernova black hole or some kind of earth-shattering moment. Not stabbed in the gut. Not from stepping in front of a blade seconds before their smaller, weaker and less memorable friend got gutted like trout.  
Yet there he was. And there was Travis, nine feet away from the boy, wheezing so hard it felt like he was trying to light a match in his chest.There was Travis, still the weaker one, even though he was the one with a pulse. But Calvin was still the hero. The fighter. The energy that lit the bulb for both boys to see in the dark. “Cal…come here.” Travis said, through heavy, almost concrete cold lips. “Come here, Calvin…” He pleaded again, taking a silly pause as if he was going to accidentally speak at the same time as the body.  
He could only compare the moment to looking at a photograph. Calvin’s dead, turned over body, with all the distressed clothing and hair, with all the dark red blood around it was the poloroid. The snapshot. They say pictures are worth a thousand words. Yeah no. Only one came to Travis’ mind. Fuck.  
He fell forward to his palms, crawling at a glacial pace, even more nauseous now that he was getting closer to the blood. It wasn’t the dead body that had him shaken to a frigid core; he’d seen several. He’d been around several. Too many to count ever since he interned for the city morgue (something Calvin found hilarious and stupid at the same time).  
The name attached to the dead body was what had Travis distraught, squinting through salty, flooded eyes. He just knew he was going to reach the body, turn it over like a pillow and see that it was a stranger, anybody in the world besides Calvin.  
“Get over here….” He closed the space that had been between the two boys, now starting to wonder why there was no help in sight. Hadn’t the struggle been loud enough for someone to catch wind and call for help? How long had the attack even lasted? “Wake up.” He crawled too far, his ripped black jeans gliding grossly into the blood puddle. He slipped and fell on top of the boy’s back. “Agh.” Travis looked like Bambi trying to yank himself off the boy’s frame…but he recognized the cologne. Denying that it was Calvin under him was becoming an impossibility. Without even thinking about it, Travis reached for the body and turned it over like it was made of china. “No no no no no no.” He gagged at the bright red stained onto the stark white shirt Calvin had been wearing.  
Like a crash dummy, Calvin’s head and wrist flopped to the side. His lips were parted slightly, his eyes open as if he was still wanting to look out for Travis even in death. Like he just couldn’t take his eyes off the guy. “Calvin, I swear to God, you need to wake up right now, I can’t do this…” Travis knew CPR and mouth to mouth and at least four other doctors in the city were on his cell’s speed dial. Still, without Calvin smiling, joking, lying, burping, laughing and ranting about Call of Duty next to him, he felt useless. He was useless.  
“I can’t save you, I can’t do anything.”  
He started to panic again, even more than he already had been. He just reached and grabbed at his best friend, not really doing anything in particular. “Fuck, Travis, pull yourself together.” He dragged Calvin closer to him, resting the boy’s head on his lap. He checked for a pulse at Calvin’s neck, his father would have been proud-ish. The stab wound was high up on the right side of Calvin’s torso. Travis stripped the boy out of his overshirt and applied some pressure to the wound, flinching at the lack of response Calvin was giving to literally everything.  
Not a cough. Not a wince. And definitely not a pulse. Travis decided to just ignore the lack of heartbeat, pretending it was something foreign to him, like he didn’t know what it meant when something literally stopped breathing. As if he wasn’t a college student at the top of his class. Like he had no common sense.  
“I got you, I got you.” Travis managed to tie the overshirt around Calvin’s body, then dig into Calvin’s pockets for the cellphone. He found it right away, but it was dead. Or rather, it died once Travis entered the passcode. “Fuck.” He didn’t even have time to hit the emergency call option. Travis looked back, spotting his own cell a few feet behind them. He felt bad for letting Calvin’s head flop back onto the parking garage floor, but he needed to get help.  
Shockingly, Travis was able to spring to his feet and run to his cellphone, scooping it up with one hand, he pressed the emergency call option with his back to Calvin. A second later, there was an operator on the line. “Yes, hello, my friend isn’t breathing, we’re at the…” Travis whipped back to check on Calvin, as if he were going to wake up and take off, or somehow wind up in worse shape. Well…  
“Sir?” The operator was talking to herself, the phone had already slipped through Travis’ fingertips, hitting the ground noiselessly. Well, it made a sound, but Travis couldn’t hear anything. Maybe he was going def because he certainly believed he was going blind. Calvin was gone. The ugly, smeared around pool of dark red was the only thing left from moments ago. “Cal…Calvin…” Travis stumbled over his own feet, whizzing around the space, his own hollers not even loud enough to break through the heavy metal panic ringing in his eardrums. He knew he was sobbing, and shouting, but he didn’t hear a drop of it. He wound up right back in the center of Calvin’s blood, eyes narrowed at the footprint? Pawprint.  
The lights of the garage started to drop out, one row at a time, two or three seconds between one another, thrusting Calvin into a bloodied, shadowy bubble. The only light came from the large, nosey full moon that seemed to just ghost out from a few thick clouds in the navy night sky. Travis didn’t recall falling, but he was on his knees again, a hand over his chest, trying hard as hell not to faint. Calvin would not let him live that shit down. “Dammit.” He wished he’d kept his phone. He could have used the flashlight, he could have finished the call with operator or anything…  
Travis had pulled some crazy all-nighters, he’d crashed for some intense mid-terms and he’d been over the moon spastic off energy drinks and shots of espresso before, but nothing compared to how manic his mind was right then. He was frozen there, gripping his chest like a 99-year-old, but his head was a rocket, flying past not a single comet, cluster, or meteor of logic. No threads he could tie and tangle together for an a-ha moment. Just a set of eyes.  
A set of yellow, narrowed but cautious eyes hovering on him from the heart of the darkness he was trapped in. Travis clenched all over, startled by the mute appearance of the eyes. Whatever the eyes were attached to pulled away? Backwards? They melted back into the dark. Travis yelled immediately. He screamed and flailed and cried out for help until he was…awake.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I have been playing around with since (hmmm...2017?) It's just a central idea I've always wanted to get out, but never really knew in what way. When I wanted to be a novelist (yikes) I worked really hard and planned so much of this project, but then got bored with it and dropped it, feeling like I was just never going to be satisfied with it or my own skillset.  
> Now that much time has passed, I see this, as with a lot of my projects as more of a show or on-going series type situation so I'm going into the chapters and pacing with that in mind. Some details I'm still working out (like last names, ages and settings) so I tried not to get too deep into those.  
> Clearly it's supernatural and based around the gays for the most part, but there's a fun collection of characters in this story and it isn't going to be this tense in the coming updates.  
> Hope you like it! I'm bored in quarantine so I'm trying to write more and not procrastinate ~ ty!


End file.
